


thought about it before

by vamoosi



Category: Motorcity
Genre: Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Multi, Trans Male Character, implied ot5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:54:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vamoosi/pseuds/vamoosi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Practice usually makes perfect but he still gets messed up about what's not right, you know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	thought about it before

**Author's Note:**

> warning for dysphoria and the like

He fools around with Julie most, even if she doesn't really get it. But she never pries, never Wants to Talk if he tells her no. Not that he's ever really been into the whole talking thing, not the way Mike always is, but there's always this pins-and-needles rush of anxiety whenever his stomach drops and it all comes up too close that they'll want to really  _discuss_ it or whatever. Or worse, ignore it because they don't know what else to do, no sidelong looks to Texas here or anything. So he goes with Julie just to avoid it coming up in the first place. 

It's just that sometimes talking shop with Chuck late into the night gets twisted up into kissing over a mess of wrenches and spray paint gets twisted into tangling up on one of the armchairs in front of the diner, and then Dutch remembers, oh yeah. 

Because even though there's plenty he'd be willing to do with Chuck for ages -- guy is clumsy, shaky, but he goes red and pliant and breathes heavy like he's just run a mile, it's hard to turn down -- there still days where even when it's Chuck that Dutch is pressed up against, Dutch remembers and his insides want to pull away from his skin and his throat closes up. 

To clear things up, Chuck's hard under him and when Dutch grinds down it meets up with empty space and he suddenly feels so damn sick. 

Chuck's eyes are closed tight, he's biting down on his lip and he's tapping his fingers all skittery against Dutch's hips, but he still notices the way Dutch's muscles tense up and his back arches to separate them. "Whoa," Chuck says, tries to say anyway, his voice is all wrecked up so it comes out a breathy sort of squeak. He clears is throat and tries again. "Whoa -- hey, what's -- you okay?" 

"Yeah," Dutch says. He pulls back and sits closer to Chuck's knees, then winces at himself. "No. I mean, dammit. Sorry."

Chuck's voice is still all messy, and Dutch's heartbeat is matching it and both of them make him feel a little worse. Chuck blinks at him. "Did I mess something up again? It's not like it would be, uh, without precedent, so--"

Dutch cuts him off. "No, man, you didn't -- you're fine, you're." Dammit. "You're perfect, don't worry." You're one lucky son of a bitch, Dutch's brain says, in that same way that it gets too fast and too pushy whenever this happens, like whenever he has his days where he looks up and the guys catch him by surprise and he keeps looking at how their shirts fit over their chests. Days when he can't even hole up and paint without thinking too much. "I'm just, I don't know, I'm bein' dumb." 

"That kind of 'being dumb?'" Chuck says. Dutch blinks. Must say it more often than he thought, and that makes him cringe, too. Gets his throat blocked up all warm and burning and that means if he so much as opens his mouth it's spilling out as tears. He shrugs a yes. 

Chuck's quiet for a while. Dutch shifts, adjusts, leans forward and rests his head on Chuck's shoulder and breathes real steady through the mantra of idiot, dumbass running through his head. Eventually Chuck leans forward and sort of kisses Dutch's shoulder, sort of just mumbles into it. 

"D'you want a hug?" he murmurs awkwardly, and Dutch kinda laughs. 

"Nah," he says. His heart's calming down from Chuck and from the upset. "Let's just -- can I sleep in your room with you tonight, man?"

"Yeah." Whenever Chuck says yeah like that it's like he's all in awe that someone would even want to. That's a good enough distraction for Dutch. "Yeah, come on."

It's not exactly gone away when Chuck opens the door for him, but the way he goes "your bed, sir" in this dumb deep voice helps. 


End file.
